Images
by Miss Mila
Summary: A JIBBS song-fic type of thing. Based on the song "Almost Lover" by A Fine Frenzy.


**Disclaimer: ****I don't own any of the NCIS characters, places, themes, etc. No copyright infringement intended. I also don't own the lyrics to Almost Lover, which I give full credit to A Fine Frenzy for. I'm only using them because they fit so well with my fic. **

**Author's Note: ****You know, I always promise myself that I won't start another fic until I finish my longer ones, but I don't feel like going to see where I left off on the other ones. Besides, this is just a one-shot/song-fic. Read and Review? Jibbs. Of course. **

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_Your fingertips across my skin, _

_Palm trees swaying in the wind. _

_Images. _

_You sang me Spanish lullabies, _

_The sweetest sadness in your eyes. _

_Cleaver trick. _

_Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy, _

_I thought you'd want the same for me. _

_Goodbye, my almost lover, _

_Goodbye, my hopeless dream, _

_I'm trying not to think about you, _

_Can't you just let me be? _

_So long, my luckless romance, _

_My back is turned on you. _

_Should've known you'd bring me heartache, _

_Almost lovers always do. _

The clock on the wall read 4:30 AM. It was a Sunday. A well-deserved day off from a hectic workday. But it wasn't off to a good start. Not only was she up at an ungodly hour, but the weather was horrible.

Heavy raindrops hit against the roof and the windows of the house, and thunder rumbled nearby.

She sat wrapped up in a blanket, curled up on a sofa next to the fireplace. A photo album sat in her lap. It was one she brought out only when she was feeling sentimental. She tried to get him out of her mind…but on these kind of nights, she wanted to remember.

The album sat heavy in her lap, leather-binding falling apart. The album was worn, but strong. It was still holding together, and the lettering was still as bright and as gold as the day she took it on the plane. She gently traced the calligraphic letters: P-A-R-I-S.

A tear dropped down onto the leather and a tiny dark spot appeared on the cover.

She sighed and opened the album, instantly smiling a faint smile at the first picture.

It was of them, like most of the 'Paris Pictures' were; pictures taken by some passerby who smiled at them gently, volunteering to snap a photo.

In this particular picture, they were sitting on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Jethro had his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. She was sitting back against his stomach, her legs crisscrossed. Both their heads were thrown back, laughing at some long forgotten joke. It was a picture that said 'peace'.

The next picture was of herself in front of the Seine River. A picture that Jethro had taken. She vaguely remembered the day. It was one of their days off. One they decided to spend walking along the dinner and sampling the food from the various delis and restaurants on the riverbank. It was very windy, as well. Which explained the picture.

The wind was blowing her wind around wildly, and she was laughing. Jethro's hand was in the picture, gently pushing the hair away from her face.

Jenny closed her eyes and went back to that moment. She felt Jethro's hand on her cheek, and another tear made it's way down her face.

_We walked along a crowded street, _

_You took my hand and danced with me. _

_Images. _

_And when you left, you kissed my lips, _

_You told me you would never, never forget _

_These images. _

_No. _

_Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy. _

_I thought you'd want the same for me. _

_Goodbye, my almost lover, _

_Goodbye, my hopeless dream. _

_I'm trying not to think about you, _

_Can't you just let me be? _

_So long, my luckless romance, _

_My back is turned on you. _

_Should've known you'd bring me heartache,_

_Almost lovers always do. _

Sometimes she missed him so much. Sometimes she'd give anything to go back to Paris, to go back to that carefree, happy time. Anything to have one more day to spend with him, just laying in bed, in his arms.

The thunder crashed again, causing her to jump slightly. It was followed by a knocking on her door.

Jenny tossed the photo album aside and stood, blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. She didn't bother to wipe the tears that were running down her face as she walked to the door and opened it.

Jethro Gibbs.

She would be lying if she said that him standing in front of her was a complete surprise. It wasn't. But it was still…unnerving seeing him there when she wanted him most.

Wordlessly she moved away from in front of the door, inviting him in. she went back and moved to the sofa, without looking to see if he would follow.

He came in, soaking wet, and closed the door behind him. Then he came and sat in the armchair across from the sofa.

She wasn't going to ask why he was here. She didn't care for the _why._ Just the fact _that_ he was there.

She poured him a glass of bourbon and gave it to him, their fingers brushing.

She settled back down in the sofa and he saw the photo album next to her. He smiled softly. Paris. Then he looked back up at her and frowned. "You gonna tell me what's wrong, Jen? Or am I gonna have to get it out of you?"

She shivered at the way he said her name. "Nothing's wrong, Jethro." She mumbled.

Gibbs sighed and came to sit down next to her on the sofa. "You don't cry for 'nothing', Jen." He said softly.

_I cannot go to the ocean, _

_I cannot drive the streets at night, _

_I cannot wake up in the morning, _

_Without you on my mind. _

_So you're gone and I'm haunted, _

_And I bet you are just fine. _

_Did I make it that _

_Easy to walk right in and out_

_Of my life? _

_Goodbye, my almost lover, _

_Goodbye, my hopeless dream. _

_I'm trying not to think about you, _

_Can't you just let me be? _

_So long, my luckless romance, _

_My back is turned on you. _

_Should've known you'd bring me heartache,_

_Almost lovers always do. _

When she didn't say anything, he took the photo album up gently. He flipped passed the first two pictures and smiled. "I forgot about these."

"I only made it to the first two."

"Come 'ere." He said quietly, holding the album out, inviting her to come closer and look.

Jen bit her lip and then scooted closer to him, snuggling into his side without thinking twice. She breathed in his woodsy smell and looked down at the album, waiting for him to turn the page.

Gibbs chuckled. "This is my favorite."

It was a picture of Jen in the kitchen, trying to bake a cake. Bits of flour stuck to her shirt and hair, and batter spotted the top of the counter. It was mostly batter she dodged that Jethro had threw at her. She was mixing the contents of the bowl and smiling, determined to bake the cake properly.

"We were so happy back then."

"We were."

"What changed, Jethro?" She asked, desperation in her voice.

"We made decisions. Ones that didn't involve each other."

"It's my fault. Don't bring yourself into it. I was the one that left." Which brought up the question if it was _that _easy for him to let her leave.

"I didn't stop you." Regret is faint in his voice. "Besides, I don't think the white picket life would've suited you."

"Guess not." She sniffs; it's all she can do to try not to cry.

Another lonely tear slipped down her face.

Gibbs put the album down and turned toward her, his back to the armrest. He opened his arms and beckoned for her to come closer.

She fell into him and buried her face in his chest.

He held her close to him and buried _his _face in her hair.

They sat there, comforting each other, each losing themselves in memories and sorrows of long ago.

After her tears ran out she sniffed and pulled back from him.

"I'm sorry."

Gibbs shook his head. "Don't be, Jen." He said quietly.

She put the album away and folded the blanket, putting it away in the closet. Then she stood in the doorway, arms wrapped around herself. "Jethro…stay."

He came up to her and gave her that lopsided smile. Then he pulled her into his arms the second time. Silent tears flowed down her face, and she gave a weak chuckle. "I take that as a yes."

He took her hand pulled her to the room, laying down next to her.

She shrunk against him. "I miss you."

"Me too, Jen."

"I broke your heart that day at the airport…and I'm sorry. But what you don't know is that I broke mine, too."

"I know now."

"So what are we going to do?"

"Fix 'em. Together."

"Sounds like a plan."

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**Author's Note: ****I'm not happy with the way the ending turned out. Not really. I like the picture parts; the images, but I don't like their conversations that much. I can't come up with anything else at the moment, though. So, this is what it'll have to be. Thank you for reading, and if you have any thoughts or comments (particularly constructive criticism), I'd appreciate it. Review please...I've been disappointed in the lack of reviews lately. Thank you!**


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